


An Unbreakable Vow

by DameinToyland



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: As in you will be disappointed if you read this for nudity, F/M, Fluff, Mild Language, Very brief mention of partial nudity, brief mention of past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameinToyland/pseuds/DameinToyland
Summary: A wardrobe malfunction at the Ministry leads to a discussion about a, not so secret, secret Ron’s kept about his run in with the snatchers.Originally written and submitted for the RomioneFicLetFest 2020 on Tumblr.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	An Unbreakable Vow

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted on FFN. I honestly thought I had posted this on AO3 already.

“Ron?” The red head turned around at the sound of Hermione’s voice. She stood frozen in the doorway of her office at the Ministry with several rolls of parchment tucked under one arm and confusion beaming from her face. Ron watched as her eyes traced up his form until she caught his eyes and fixed him with a scrutinizing glare. 

“Why are you practically naked in my office?” she asked, still holding onto the knob of the open door.

“Hello, love,” Ron called back to her as he picked up an oxford shirt he had draped on the back of a chair and began slipping it on. “Do you mind closing the door? I don’t fancy your whole office seeing me in my pants.”

Hermione jolted at his words and quickly moved inside the room and shut the door. She walked over to her desk and dropped off the parchment she’d been carrying without taking her eyes off him. 

“Sorry, about this.” Ron motioned to his state of undress. He finished buttoning his shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone and grabbed a pair of trousers off the chair before sitting down to put them on. 

“I ran into some kid handling confiscated doxy pheromones after I got to the Ministry,” Hermione wrinkled her nose at those words. “Exactly, even scourgify can’t undo that smell. So I changed into the spare outfit you keep for me when we go out with your ministry stiffs. I hope you don’t mind.”

Ron finished buttoning his trousers and walked around the desk to stand next to Hermione. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and then her forehead. 

“I would say sorry for running late to lunch, but it seems you’re a bit late yourself,” he mumbled against her forehead. Ron started to pull back but froze when Hermione grabbed him by the bottom of his untucked shirt and tugged it up.

“Saw something you liked?” Ron started with a wry grin, but he quickly noticed something was off as Hermione merely continued to tug up his shirt with one hand while the other hand gently turned him around.

“What is this?” Hermione asked in a low voice. She ran cool fingers along the lower left side of Ron’s back. Her fingers ran over a particularly painful spot, and Ron couldn’t help but flinch and suck in a pained breath between his teeth.

“What happened?” Hermione asked again. 

“Oh, I think that happened a few days ago,” he said nonchalantly. “Fell in the stock room and hit my back.” 

“Why didn’t you or George properly heal it?” Hermione asked after a few seconds.

“It didn’t really hurt at the time, and I just sort of forgot about it.”

Hermione groaned disapprovingly at his response and he could hear the rustle of her robes just before the healing heat from a nonverbal episkey charm radiated across his back. 

“So, a few days ago.” Hermione said pointedly and Ron turned to face her. She stood a little farther away from him than he remembered with her arms crossed over her chest. “Ron you know the rules. You’ve always followed the rules before.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s our little unbreakable vow,” he joked but stiffened after Hermione fixed him with an unamused stare. “I’m supposed to let you know of any injuries no matter—”

“No matter how big or small.”

Ron closed the distance between them in one step and ran his hands down her arms before pulling her into a firm hug. 

“I promise, I wasn’t hiding anything,” he said, pressing his nose into her hair and breathing in her apple cinnamon shampoo. Ron had learned various techniques over the years for calming Hermione before she had a chance to lecture him, and a good cuddle was top of the list. 

“It wasn’t a big deal, honest,” he continued in the soothing voice he always used when Hermione was especially stressed. “It probably looked worse just now than it did that day.” Ron figured he’d achieved his objective, when he heard Hermione let out a sigh and felt her wrap her arms around his waist. 

“Do you know why I always ask you to check in with me about these things?” Hermione asked.

“Besides an excuse to see me naked?”

“Don’t be silly, I never need an excuse for that,” Hermione replied. Ron looked down at her with a grin and leaned in to kiss her lips, but she leaned back and shook her head.

“This is serious,” she said. “Do you remember the story you told Harry and me about the snatchers?” she continued. “You said they weren’t that bright—”

“Part troll were my exact words,” Ron interjected.

“And you said that you were able to get away from them with two splinched fingernails as your only injury, but I know you lied because of this,” Hermione said as she pulled back the collar of his shirt and ran her fingers across a small scar on his shoulder that was almost obscured by the larger swirling scars running down his arms. “I know it wasn’t there before the tent.”

“How would you have known that?”

“We may not have been together, Ron, but let’s just say I was well acquainted with your...erm...form even then.”

“Good to know,” Ron replied with a crooked smile.

“Focus, Ron,” Hermione commanded but seemed to be biting back her own smile. 

“It was after you came back,” she continued, her fingers still tracing the edges of the old scar. “One morning when you came to take over a shift for me, I saw it there. It was a lot more noticeable. It had that bright red look of a recently healed scar. At first, I figured you probably just splinched yourself worse than you wanted to admit. Besides, I was still trying my best to ignore you. But when you weren’t looking, I couldn’t help myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I still watched you all the time even if I wasn’t speaking to you. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“I might have.”

“Naturally, the more I watched you the more I realised that this was a wound from something sharp. Like a knife—and the only time that could have happened...” Hermione sniffled. “I’m right, aren’t I? This is from the snatchers?”

“You’re not wrong that it was from the snatchers, but I swear most of the encounter went as I said. They really were quite daft, but when they first grabbed me, one of ‘em held a knife to me. In the struggle to get away he did nick me a bit—”

Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Alright, yes he stabbed me—once, but it was shallow and my adrenaline was so high at that point that by the time I knew what happened I was already safe.”

Hermione frowned at him. “Was the knife cursed?”

“No,” he answered. His mouth was set into a grim line for the first time since their conversation began.

Hermione nodded almost imperceptibly at his response before resting her head back on his chest. They stood in their embrace for a few more moments.

“I always just figured you thought it was part of my scar from the brains.” Ron finally broke the silence. “You weren’t mad that I never said anything?” 

“I was, but mostly I didn’t say anything because I was still stubbornly trying to avoid speaking to you at the time.” Hermione chuckled, and Ron smiled at the memories of her futile efforts to stay mad at him.

“But, a part of me realised that you didn’t want Harry and me to worry. So I decided to respect that,” Hermione added. “It’s something of a habit for you.” 

“I know,” he whispered.

“It’s one of my favourite things about you, but it also makes me worry. That’s why I made you promise me, back when you became an Auror, to tell me about every scrape, every scratch, every—”

“Splinched eyebrow and fingernail, were the words I recall.” 

Hermione pinched his side but otherwise didn’t break their embrace. “And I meant it,” she mumbled.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he murmured back. “But I’m not even an Auror anymore, doesn’t that cancel the agreement?”

“Are you joking? Working with George makes it even more important. At least as an Auror I could count on Harry to keep you safe, and honest.” Hermione looked up at him and brought her hands up to rest on his neck. “So you better not forget it Ron Weasley, or else…”

“Or else?”

A playful smile crossed Hermione’s lips and she rose up on her tiptoes. Ron bent down to meet her, stopping just before their lips met. 

“Next time it will be a real unbreakable vow,” Hermione said just before pressing her lips against his.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
